Proofreader & Editor: Lotas
In the cold, silent warehouse, rows of ice coffins were placed beside Zhao Kaiming.
He had been sitting here for a full three hours.
Motionless, like a wooden statue.
The hope in his heart was gradually extinguished as the hours passed.
The time agreed upon with the malevolent ghost had been exceeded by far too much.
During this period, there was not a single sign of revival from the corpses of his deceased relatives in the ice coffins; the dead remained dead, and he was the only one alive.
The nature of the malevolent ghost that followed him was still indescribable.
Zhao Kaiming only knew that every time he asked the ghost to do something, someone close to him would die, yet he himself remained unharmed.
This was the price of using the ghost's power.
He didn't know this at first, and by the time he realized it, it was too late. His wife, daughter, parents, relatives… all had been killed by the ghost because of him.
Compared to fear and death, what tormented Zhao Kaiming more was the guilt and sorrow of having killed his loved ones with his own hands.
Sometimes, he had no choice but to do it.
From the day the nightmare began, Zhao Kaiming had no way back. He could only follow the path to darkness, pinning all his hopes on fulfilling the ghost's conditions to revive his loved ones and start everything anew.
Despite his repeated doubts that this might just be a trick by the ghost.
But even so, Zhao Kaiming could only choose to believe, not daring to doubt.
Because any hesitation would extinguish the last glimmer of redemption.
Nearly four hours had passed.
It was around two o'clock in the morning.
Zhao Kaiming, who sat like a wooden statue among the ice coffins, suddenly laughed. His laugh was tragic, his laughter manic.
As if he had gone mad.
He had completed the plan but lost everything.
Unable to reverse the consequences of his own actions, Zhao Kaiming felt he had no reason to live.
He blamed no one, for he had no right.
He slowly drew a handgun from his waist.
The golden gun, cold and heavy, was loaded with ten specially made bullets.
But whether the bullets were special or not no longer mattered. Now he was just an ordinary man, easy to kill or to commit suicide.
Without much hesitation, he shoved the gun into his mouth.
Suicide was the only path left for Zhao Kaiming.
"Sorry, I'm coming down to join you," Zhao Kaiming closed his eyes.
But just before he could pull the trigger.
"Tap tap~!"
A sound of something tapping against the glass echoed in the silent warehouse. Although it wasn't loud, it was exceptionally clear, and the source was right beside Zhao Kaiming.
"Bang~!"
However, a gunshot rang out.
Zhao Kaiming's suicide was too decisive, with hardly any hesitation, and he had pulled the trigger before he could stop himself.
Perhaps because of the angle or the incorrect posture of the gun in his mouth, the bullet did not pass through his skull but went through his mouth instead.
There was no pain, only dizziness.
Zhao Kaiming's mouth was full of blood, but he was still alive, albeit seriously injured.
The tapping sound continued beside him.
He thought it was a hallucination, but it wasn't. He saw with his own eyes that in the ice coffin holding his daughter's body, a pair of pale little hands were frantically tapping.
Had his daughter come back to life?
Zhao Kaiming's eyes, which were about to dim, suddenly burst with light. He fell to the ground, covered in blood, and crawled towards the ice coffin, then used all the strength in his body to push it open.
A little girl climbed out from inside, crying and calling, "Daddy, daddy…"
Zhao Kaiming tried to stand up, but the gunshot wound had left him severely injured, his body drained of strength as he collapsed on the ground. Yet he smiled, a smile of pure joy, lovingly holding his daughter, feeling her breath and heartbeat, touching her soft hair.
"Don't cry, cough cough, Daddy's here."
His daughter's revival made him realize that he had not been deceived, but this realization came too late, at the moment of his suicide, the miracle appeared.
His daughter was the first to die and the first to revive. If this sequence continued, the next to be revived would be… his parents.
Zhao Kaiming was losing too much blood and was dizzy from his injuries. He said, "Xiaoya, listen to Daddy. Go open those glass doors. Mommy, Grandpa, Grandma, they're all sleeping inside. You have to wake them up… cough cough."
Speaking was already difficult.
He didn't know if this would work, but he could only trust his six-year-old daughter.
Zhao Xiaoya, though young, was very obedient. Upon hearing her father's words, she immediately ran to the ice coffins, crying, trying to open the doors.
But the little girl didn't know how to open them. These ice coffins were custom-made by Zhao Kaiming, of very high quality, and because of this quality, they had a special way of opening.
"Daddy, daddy, I can't open it," Zhao Xiaoya cried as she ran back.
But Zhao Kaiming was sitting on the ground with his head down, unresponsive, blood still flowing from his body.
He wasn't dead, just unconscious.
If an ambulance was called at this moment, Zhao Kaiming could still be saved.
But fate likes to play tricks on people. He only realized after his suicide attempt that everything had succeeded, mistakenly believing it was all a scam.
Zhao Kaiming didn't know how long he had been unconscious.
Maybe a day, maybe half a day, but in fact, he miraculously woke up an hour after falling unconscious.
Zhao Kaiming felt someone pressing on his wound in a daze.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself surrounded by people.
"He's awake, awake, my son is awake, that's great," an elderly woman said excitedly.
Zhao Kaiming saw that his family had been revived, with his wife, parents, and relatives by his side.
"Has the ambulance not arrived yet? Why can't we get through on the phone? Hang in there, Zhao Kaiming, just hang in there, we're contacting nearby hospitals," a relative said anxiously.
Zhao Kaiming didn't speak. His consciousness was in a peculiar state; he felt that waking up was just a flicker before death.
"Daddy," Zhao Xiaoya cried beside him.
"Good girl, don't cry, Daddy's fine. How did you do it?" Zhao Kaiming touched her head and smiled weakly.
"It was this uncle who helped me," Zhao Xiaoya said through tears, pointing behind her.
Zhao Kaiming barely lifted his eyelids, but he saw no one behind his daughter, just darkness.
He was slow to react at first, then realized something, his eyes widening in shock as he gripped his daughter's hand, wanting to say something, but a mouthful of blood choked him, and the fleeting resurgence of life made him unable to speak.
The ghost… was still there.
It had helped his daughter open all the ice coffins, and as a price, a relative had to die.
No matter the task, the price for enlisting a ghost's help was the same.
But looking around, none of the relatives had died.
Then Zhao Kaiming realized something, let out a piercing, miserable laugh, and with all the tragedy, took his last breath.
His eyes, before death, remained fixed on the spot his daughter had pointed to.
This outcome was more terrifying than the despair of his failed suicide or dying with a last hope after the suicide attempt.
Because Zhao Kaiming knew that the tragedy that had befallen him would be repeated on his daughter.
Why Xiaoya…
In his fading consciousness, Zhao Kaiming's last thought lingered.